Moonspear 七転び八起き

Hydra nodded, liking his ideas greatly. She had done much the same with him, and the siblings of his that wanted involvement. Each of her children seemed eager to learn, which pleased her—it had not always been so with her brothers and sisters. With hers, though, she would enforce they learn whether they wanted to or not. None of them would be taken advantage of; they would know what to do in the face of danger. 

Good, she responded, agreeing aloud with his ideas—each of them. Make sure that where you train is stable. Dirge and I have inspected the territory and it seems to be so; still, better to be careful these days, she instructed. The earth and its strange movement was not something she underestimated; though Moonspear fared well, she would never assume that each part of it did not respond to the quakes (it had, thus far, per her inspections... but Hydra was nothing if not thorough). 

Hydra thought on the boy, and the girl. Hydra, thoughtfully, considered aloud: They are survivors, those two. Whatever pain they are in we will teach them to channel. I do not know what they have learned from those that have departed them, unwillingly or otherwise. She was determined to find out. Her gaze turned toward her brother. The boy has gone through something himself. His father would not speak it then—I thought I would be able to find out when he returned, and her ego smarted from that assumption made; she had been wrong, which she hated. Well, she had also learned—in some instances, it was best not to wait. 

Wanting to vent her physical frustrations in her favored manner, Hydra thought to suggest a spar... first, though: do you think it unwise to ask him what he had gone through? I would like to know. It would serve us all, the boy included. They could not protect him against what they did not know; and to train him, they ought to know what he had gone through so as to understand fully the extent of the damage dealt. The body itself could reveal much of that, fortunately, but not all. Hydra did not think of mental wounds, not knowing of their existence—only the physical.